Friend
by twinkle.exe
Summary: Many CloudClan challenges, all a sequel to that one story that's shattered like glass under a rubber tire. (Though maybe the tire is worse off than the glass.)
1. Friend

She remembers that day. Everything about that day. The sharp scent of pine-sap, wrapping around the forest and singeing itself into their noses— because there was no other word to describe that piney smell; it burned, intensely, almost painfully).

Stronger than the resinous aroma, however, had been the miasma of fear.

 _Sootkit yelped, hackles rising and fur bristling. She hopped a few steps backwards, one of her front paws held up to her chest._

 _The other cat looked at her worriedly, amber eyes dark. "Great, great StarClan," he muttered, hitting his head on a nearby tree but barely making it budge. "Kit, are you okay?" the apprentice asked, before switching back to his grumbles: "I. Am so. Stupid."_

 _"Um," the gray she-kit mewed, white-tipped tail flicking, "I think I got a needle in my paw."_

 _His response was dry: "Yeah, 'kay. I'm so totally a medicine cat who can help you with your problems_ while I'm not trying to get us out of the middle of ShadowClan territory," _he growled, voice rising with each word. But before Sootkit even processed what he was saying, her paw had been roughly flipped over and inspected._

 _"Hm, yeah, that's a needle. It's, well, not bleeding, so there's that."_

Haha. She laughed, unexpectedly back in the present. "Not bleeding" was the typical way he would try to comfort someone. How they even got into the pine forest, so far away from RiverClan, was beyond her memory.

 _"But it_ hurts! _" she'd complained._

 _A wet nose brushed her pawpad, and she could feel warm breath lingering on it. Suddenly, the feeling of an intruder in her body faded, replaced with a throbbing sting._

 _"That better?"_

 _"Yeah... thanks. Dustpaw_ _."_

 _"What are friends for?" the golden tabby responded, perhaps with slight sarcasm._

 _In response, Sootkit blinked._

They'd made it back to camp eventually. It involved a ShadowClan patrol, several angry warriors, some more angry warriors and an exceptionally angry leader, and a few more pine needles in the paw before everything went back to normal.

At least, as normal as normal could be.

It wasn't easy, and it definitely wasn't "normal" living with a crazed mother, a dead father who you were apparently the doppelgänger of, according to said mother. Sootfall didn't even have any other blood relatives to go to; she would often just attach herself to Blackpetal, a kindhearted queen recovering from her birthing.

So that was why their little ShadowClan adventure had been so important.

"Friend," Dustheart, then Dustpaw, had said.

She was his friend.

Had been ever since that one day, when they were still young and naïve. After noticing her surprise, he'd pledged —rather gruffly— to be her best friend, for life, and in return, she did so for him.

He was the one she could come to when her mother was even worse than usual.

He was the one whose shoulder she could cry on without feeling embarassed or ashamed.

He was the one who could make her laugh. For a long time, the only one who could make her laugh.

He was the one who gave her memories that were filled to the brim with meaning.

He was the one who made otherwise mundane days something exciting, something she would remember and lock away.

Dustheart.

And now he was gone.

Sootfall twitched, pacing the camp. She'd been doing it for quite a while, so much that her pawprints had been starting to leave their mark in the dry earth.

Why, out of all the cats in RiverClan, did _he_ have to be the one to parley with ThunderClan? Actually, that being said, why was he the only one? Why couldn't someone else go with him? It would make her feel better, at the very least.

Walk. Back and forth, back and forth, casting glances at the camp entrance in case he had come back.

"You're making me dizzy." A voice, more amused than anything, cut into Sootfall's thoughts. The she-cat paused, angling her ears towards the direction of the words.

"Blackpetal?"

The elder laughed. "Don't be worried, dear. ThunderClan isn't that bad... at the very worst, he'll be escorted back here, and the attempt for peace will have failed."

Sootfall forced a smile. "Why do you think I'm worried?" she padded over to her almost-mother, purring as she touched her muzzle to Blackpetal's ear.

The latter snorted, but returned the purr. "Sootfall, _everyone_ can tell."

She felt her pelt get hot. "Well, I mean, I know we'll be okay, in the end. Dustheart will come back."

"That's my girl. Keep thinking like that and he'll be back in no time. Go on, now." The elder nudged her away. Sootfall hesitated, until Blackpetal added, "And maybe bring me some food while you're at it!"

The she-cat promptly trotted over to the fresh-kill pile. It held an abundance of carp —once his favorite fish, it was now the food that Dustheart tried to avoid unless his life depended on it. _He's changed_ , Sootfall thought, but then realized with a start that she had changed too.

 _We've just grown up, I guess._

But she still had all their memories tucked safely away in her heart, and as long as they were there, they would keep her company. So many of these bits and pieces she had shared with Dustheart as time went on. Their hopes, their everything, they shared it all. She was pretty sure they'd only got this far together because of faith. His faith in her, hers in him. She could count on him, again and again, for as long as it took.

Sootfall dipped her head, scanning the pile of food, and picked up the juicest fish to deliver to Blackpetal.

"Here," she meowed, carefully placing down the prey —salmon— in front of the elder. The black she-cat made a noise of appreciation as she took a bite of the fish.

"You know," Blackpetal said after she'd chewed and swallowed, "every time you and Dustheart looked at each other, I always thought you fit perfectly."

The young warrior gave a small _mrrow_ of amusement. She nodded. "I think... I thought so, too." _I saw it in his eyes._

"I get the feeling you'll always be best friends. Maybe with a few kits thrown in."

"Blackpetal!"

"Having some honorary grandkits would be a join. Don't you let me down. Want some?" the elder asked mildly, pushing the salmon towards Sootfall.

"No, thanks." Sootfall didn't feel the need to go back to pacing, but she wasn't hungry. She sat down and curled her tail over her paws. "You finish eating. I'll keep you company."

"Very sweet of you," meowed Blackpetal, enjoying her meal wholeheartedly. They lasped into a comfortable silence.

After talking with her caretaker, Sootfall felt emboldened and less afraid. She knew now that Dustheart would be okay, that _they_ would be okay. She didn't know what would happen in the future, —not kits, that would be mortifying!— but she knew that she wouldn't be alone.

She and Dustheart had changed and grown with the seasons. But in her heart, probably in both their hearts, home remained. Home, made up of memories and friendship and laugher and tears and everything in between, tied them together and never let go.


	2. Company

Sootkit yelped, tumbling across the soft grass of RiverClan camp. She ended up flat on her back, a gentle breeze tickling her downy belly. She felt the presence of two black, once-amber —or so the warriors claimed— eyes boring into her back, heard the rustling bramble that announced a sylphlike figure retreating into the confines of the nursery.

The dark gray kitten was quickly bombarded in a mass of ginger fur, its owner her own size but with the pelt a perfect mirror of...

...of that _monster_. Sootkit shook her head, chasing away the thought, flipped over, and landed neatly on her paws. The first thing she saw after tearing her gaze from the cloud-swept sky was her sister's eyes, peering into her own. The she-kit could see herself reflected in the shimmering light of that gaze she knew so well.

 _The... the adults said that_ her _eyes were once like Oakkit's._ Now that she was actually studying said Oakkit's shimmering eyes, all she could think was, _they must have been pretty._

She opened her mouth to break the silence and say something, anything. But Oakkit, with the loquacity she so loved, beat her to it.

"I'm _so sorry!_ " the cream-colored she-kit yelped, fur puffed up and tail whipping about. Once those three words were spoken, the kit went on a harangue, her anger seemingly pointed towards herself. "If I hadn't told you that it was okay and you can get close to her and everything would be all right and she was finally warming up then you wouldn't be hurt like this and—! Are you okay?"

"What does it look like?" Sootkit asked. Seeing her sister's expression, she hurriedly added, "Not sarcastically. I seriously can't feel my muzzle."

Oakkit craned her neck to get a good view of Sootkit's face. She gave it a quick lick, meowing, "I don't think it's that bad."

"Oh, good."

"Are you going to tell Blackpetal?"

If it was anyone else, Sootkit would have snapped at them, muttered something like _I don't need her help, I can take care of myself!_ or _Don't be stupid, why should I bother her over something like this?_

But this was Oakkit, so all she said was a simple: "No."

"Don't want to worry her?"

"Something like that."

"It was going so well, too." The ginger tabby nodded in sympathy as Sootkit glanced over to the nursery.

 _Blackpetal said... she said that once, Doestep had told her, "_ I need to be strong. For my kits. _" When she was in labor, I think, that's what Blackpetal'd said. She said giving birth to kits was painful. And that Doestep stayed strong the whole way._

 _Huh, not the Doestep I know._

But a more quiet voice inside her cried out, longingly, _But she said kits! Not kit, not just Oakkit, but both of us..._

It had been so good, for those shining few days. First, the crazed queen had lessened on the "crazed" and increased on the "queen" part. She'd stop yelling at Sootkit every time she turned around at night because she couldn't sleep. She stopped muttering about lying scum and stupid ThunderClan dung and all that. No more phillipics or contempt.

Then, Oakkit had invited Sootkit back to their nest —which she'd been "exiled" out of, causing her to either sleep alone or with Blackpetal whenever possible— and their mother didn't protest. Didn't do anything!"

 _And then_ , Doestep had licked her. Around the ears. Pulled her close. She hadn't been sleeping, or dazed, or affected in any way to make her do that. Sootkit, for the first time in her entire life from the moment she'd remembered, had been introduced to affection from a blood relative. It had hypnotized her. Made her woozy, made her think that everything was okay...

And reality slammed into her, a powerful blow; it only stung a little, physically, but was pretty much crippling emotionally. All she'd done was say her mother's name.

Well, in a way, at least. She'd tried to stay "Doestep", but her voice caught in the middle of the word, and Sootkit ended up saying "Doe".

That was when Doestep went absolutely raging. She spat at her kit, screeched insults that should never be spoken to someone so young, and everything went back to normal, if not worse.

It was such cruelty, the product of fate's sadistic whims —or perhaps it had been just a cold, or whatever made her throat unable to speak. Everything had seemed to be going her way, a first since a literal forever, and then it all came tumbling back down.

"Sootkit?" Her sister was prodding her with a paw.

"Yeah?"

"I've been stupid."

Sootkit's eyes rounded. Oakkit was one for bragging meows and and puffed-up chests, not a puddle of self-hatred like most cats. If she insulted herself, it was surely serious. "You have?"

"I... wasn't being a good sister," the ginger kit mewed awkwardly. "I'd keep listenin' to Mom. I thought... I thought, 'if she loves me, surely she loves Sootkit too!'. Or maybe I was selfish and I just wanted her to love me, so I followed her. 'Cause she didn't love you. Just me."

There was a slight hesitation, and then she added, "And that made me feel special."

Sootkit didn't respond. _You are special, you don't need her for that_ , she thought. But speaking things like that was hard for kits to do, and she didn't find the right moment to say it. Oakkit barreled on.

"So, er, I'm gonna try and be better. And I won't listen to Mom 'nymore. You're my littermate. You're important."

"Am I?" The gray she-kit certainly didn't _feel_ important. "I... you've already been nice. You were never mean to me like Doestep, and you'd always pass me some feathers from your nest when I was cold."

"That's not enough. The whole Clan would do that for you in a heartbeat," Oakkit meowed. "You have plenty of friends, you know."

Sootkit couldn't help but glance at the elder's den, where a certain golden apprentice would be carrying out his punishment for getting into some mishap including several frogs and a butterfly.

"I gotta be your friend, too. Good company for you." The tabby blinked at Sootkit, who purred in response.

"Of course. We're good company, you and me."

"And we'll be like that forever. You'll see, Sootkit! I won't let Mom control me, not ever."

Oakkit gave her an innocent, sincere feline smile, one that Sootkit couldn't help but return. She felt the oxymoron of her numb-but-stinging muzzle fade away into warmth. She lifted her head. She didn't need any blood mother. She had Blackpetal. She even had Dustpaw.

And, of course, she had her sister.

 _Forever._


End file.
